


BREAD BREAD BREAD BREAD BREAD

by AughtPunk



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Based on a very stupid movie scene, Bread was abused in the making of this fic, I Cannot Stress that Enough, No Beta, Other, We fall like Crowley, this is a very silly fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:06:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29358441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AughtPunk/pseuds/AughtPunk
Summary: Okay, so there's that movie about the devil in the elevator, right? And in one of the scenes a character loudly announces that toast with jam on it always lands jam side down around the devil. That is an actual scene in a real movie that was shown in theaters.Well, this is a fic about toast always landing jam-side-down around Crowley
Relationships: Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer, Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 89





	BREAD BREAD BREAD BREAD BREAD

Toast always lands jelly-side-down around Crowley.

This does not seem to be a big deal at first. After all, even if you take into consideration the thousands upon thousands of meals he and Aziraphale shared it still wasn’t likely that any toast would fall during that time. Toast tended to stay put on the table. It’s toast. And, one might even argue, of course the toast is going to land jelly-side down. That side’s heavier. It only makes sense.

Which is what Aziraphale always thought until he held a piece of toast roughly a finger’s length over a plate and dropped it only for the bread to defy all laws of physics and land jelly-side-down anyway. He then went on to test it with jam, preserves, marmalades, compote, and even had one go with peanut butter. Every piece of toast landed spread-side-down no matter the height in which it was dropped. After he had ruined nearly half of a loaf worth of toast Aziraphale decided this was A Demon Thing and left it at that. 

***

Toast always lands butter-side-up around Aziraphale.

At first Crowley assumed this was An Angel Thing. It certainly sounded like an angel-thing. Forever blessed by Her Grace to protect her flock from ever having to wipe butter off the kitchen floor with a paper towel. Crowley had even went out of his way to see if the type of bread mattered. After making his way through the local bread aisle he went on to try bread-adjacent test subjects like bagels, croissants, muffins, scones, and even the most hellish breakfast item he could think of: an english muffin. All landed butter-side up. 

What Crowley didn’t know is that this wasn’t An Angel Thing. Why would it be? Aziraphale was the only angel who enjoyed eating enough to go out of his way to butter a slice of toast. In reality this was An Aziraphale Thing, as no bread or bread-adjacent food item wanted to hurt Aziraphale’s feelings by landing the wrong side down. Even breakfast items couldn’t stand to see him disappointed. It was for the best that Crowley didn’t know this. Being on the same emotional wavelength as bread would just be too much for his demonic heart to take. 

***

As always, it was the humans who mucked things up. 

Aziraphale and Crowley hadn’t meant to befriend the humans they met at the end of the world. Usually they did their best to keep away from humanity. Nothing personal, of course, it just never seemed worth a bother considering they would be dead before you really got to know them. Better to admire humans from afar and help/hinder any of the mayflies that wandered across their path. 

(Neither man would ever admit that the exact opposite was true. In fact, it was really easy to truly know a human inside and out in a short amount of time. Even easier to befriend them, or love them. But that was the problem, wasn’t it? The short amount of time. Both men carried a graveyard of memories in their hearts. And with every gravestone there would always be that promise--never again, keep them distant, it’s not worth it--only for them to dig burial plot when another human entered their lives. But enough about that. We’re here to talk about bread.)

They were prepared to leave the humans to their now-normal lives right up until the lot of them showed up at Aziraphale’s shop one morning demanding answers. Turns out that there was just enough non-humanity around them to trip up their brain’s instinct to forget everything that had happened. Every time one of their memories started to slip another person would clear their throat and loudly ask if anyone else was visited by aliens that day to make it all come crashing back. 

In the end it was decided they should all get together once a month for a nice cup of tea at Anathema’s place. Aziraphale agreed if only to make sure there were no odd side effects from Adam’s meddling. Crowley agreed simply because the other option was getting poked with a large silver pin over and over until he confessed his nipple amounts. They were both lying to themselves, but that was fine too.

(Don’t worry, we’re getting to the bread)

They were all having a nice conversation about how Crowley invented showing up fifteen minutes late with Starbucks to balance out Aziraphale’s invention of showing up fifteen minutes early with a dozen donuts when Adam lost his grip on his marmalade drenched scone and helplessly watched as it landed face-down with a large squelch. 

“That’s Crowley’s doing too,” Aziraphale said with a sigh, “toast landing jelly-side-down I mean.”

“Come on angel, it’s not like I’m doing it on purpose!” Crowley pointed accusingly at Aziraphale, “at least I’m not bending reality to keep butter from getting all over the carpet.”

“I’m sorry?” Anathema asked after the awkward silence went on a moment too long. 

“Toast always lands butter-side-up around my angel here,” Crowley said willfully ignoring the fact he said my angel, “go on, test it.”

Anathema took a scone, slathered the top with butter, held over the edge of the table and let go.

The scone landed butter-side-up. 

She picked the scone up, held it butter-side-down, and dropped it.

Butter-side-up.

She didn’t even see it flip around. 

“I don’t know why, but somehow that’s the weirdest thing that’s happened to us yet.” Said Madame Tracy. 

At that point both celestials and humans alike might have gone back to their tea and forgotten the whole toast-jam-butter thing ever happened, but Newt just had to ask a question. That’s what humans did after all. They got in trouble by asking questions. No wonder Aziraphale and Crowley liked them so much.

“So, wait, what happens if you spread butter and jam on the same side?”

Aziraphale and Crowley stared blankly at Newt. 

“You haven’t thought to try that?” Asked Madame Tracy. 

They turned to stare at each other. 

“Aren’t you like, thousands of years old?” Asked Adam.

For the first time in millennia the angel and demon were speechless.

Anathema waited to see if the odd moment would pass and, when it didn’t, quietly admitted that she had a fresh loaf of bread in the kitchen.

***

We are at the bread part.

***

Or, as it would be known, The Bread Incident.

***

“So do we drop it on it’s side?” Newt asked as he placed the buttered-and-jam-covered slice back on the plate. “Or like, spin it around first?”

Adam perked up, “What if you tossed it up in the air like a pizza?” 

“Do not.” Anathema said, not wanting to deal with her ceiling while she was already worrying about the state of the floor.

“Oh just shove it off the table!” Madam Tracy said, waving the butter-and-jam covered butter knife around. “More natural that way.”

Aziraphale nodded in agreement. “That does sound like the best approach. Ready, my dear?”

Crowley sighed. “This is it. This is the dumbest thing we’ve ever done.”

“Oh darling, I’m almost certain raising the wrong boy for eleven years was far more idiotic than this.”

“You did what now?” Anathema asked, only for her question to be forgotten by Adam pushing the plate experimental toast off the table. The ceramic plate landed on the kitchen floor with a gentle ting, its form unshattered by a well-timed miracle on Aziraphale’s part. Every eye--human and celestial alike--went from the plate to the piece of toast hanging nervously in the air.

Somehow this didn’t shock any of them. 

“I feel weird.” Adam said, finally breaking the silence. 

“Me too.” Said Newt.

“There’s a powerful feeling of ennui radiating off that toast.” Madam Tracy said. 

“We’ve done it,” Anathema said, “we’ve caused a slice of toast to have an existential crisis.”

“Perhaps it just needs a moment to think?” Asked Aziraphale.

“To think about what? It’s bread, angel!”

The toast exploded, sending bits of burnt jam-and-butter across the kitchen and across most of the guests. They stood there in silence, each looking to the other for some sort of explanation. Perhaps a bit of comfort. Newt was the first one to break, muttering about getting some wet cloths for everyone. 

“Angel.” Crowley finally said.

“Yes, my dear boy?”

“Let’s never speak of this again.”

“Yes, I think that is the best course of action, my dear.”

The group of humans and non-humans proceeded to test the butter-jam-bread a good dozen more times, each explosion as sticky as the last.

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't heard, [I've been going through some hard times](https://aughtpunk.com/2019/11/24/in-which-i-am-very-bored-at-a-psych-ward/). Thank you everyone so much for your kudos and comments. They always help pick me up when things get dark. Really. Love you all.
> 
> If you enjoy my writing please check out my other fics or head to [my website](https://aughtpunk.com/want-to-help-out/) for information on my non-fic writing and how to help me out while I'm putting my life back together.
> 
> Be sure to tag me as @AughtPunk on [Twitter,](https://twitter.com/aughtpunk) [Tumblr,](http://aughtpunk.tumblr.com) or [Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.social/AughtPunk) if you want to say hi, or ever make any fan content of my work. No need to ask permission, art and fic is always welcomed!


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